That I Am Certain Of
by ImNotAPsychopath
Summary: Benson comes across Skips in a vulnerable position. Oneshot. Written with ScarlettLikesUmbrellas


Skips finally had time to relax. Mordecai and Rigby were asleep together, Pops was out, and Muscle Man and High-Five Ghost were god knows where probably getting drunk and releasing some of their pent up sexual frustration. He just hoped he wouldn't be plagued by nightmares tonight. Benson made his way through the park; it was dark, the sky almost black but with an orange glare from the city lights disrupting it. A few stars were distantly twinkling. It was cold, and so he wrapped his coat around himself a little more, shivering...as per usual, he had stayed to work longer than the other employees of the park. He was now headed for his car to go home for the day. Though, on the way to doing this, Benson approached Skips' place and hesitated...perhaps he should pay Skips a visit? Check up on him, as he seemed a little tense today. He walked up to the door and knocked. Silence emerged from the usually light sleeper's place, the situation eerie. "Skips?!" Benson called out a little louder, the concern beginning to give his voice an edge. "Skips, are you okay?!" Bare whimpers were heard above the silence. Benson knocked again, beginning to panic. "Skips, please open up! I'm worried about you." His voice softened on these last words. Nothing but the soft cries of the other man. Benson bit his lower lip, stranded outside his employees house in the cold night air, painfully listening to what seemed to be a distressed Skips on the inside. He rubbed at his temples, trying to think of what to do as well as block out the distracting sounds of Skips. He was not good at dealing with stress, and so this clouded over his other thoughts, and all he could think of was getting to Skips. Benson knocked again, this time harsher "Skips, please! I'm really scared!" But Skips continued undisturbed. It was then the other remembered the elder always kept a spare under the doormat. Benson facepalmed at himself; through all his panic he had totally forgotten about this. He bent down on one knee, reaching for the key. He stood up and used it to open the door...slowly though, so as not to startle Skips. He padded in as quietly as he could manage, gently closing the door and flicking on the dimmer lights. "Skips?" Benson asked, shocked at the sight before him; there, on the bed, head in hands, the wise and respected Skips was crying. Benson rushed to his side, perhaps a little too fast, and placing a hand on his back asked- "What happened?"

Skips jerked awake with a sob. "B-Benson?"

"Yeah, Skips. I heard you from outside . . . I got worried and came in," Benson rubbed Skips' back soothingly as he continued to sob into his hands. "Please, tell me what's wrong, Skips . . . you can trust me." Skips looked up and they made eye-contact. Benson gently smiled, hoping to look open and trustworthy to Skips.

Skip's bottom lip quivered. "I . . . I . . ."

"It's okay, Skips," Benson said softly. "Take the time that you need."

Skips gave another choked sound before clutching the other tightly. "I . . . I'm sorry . . ." He sniffled.

"Shhh," Benson hushed, wrapping the other in an embrace and continuing to soothe him by rubbing across his back. "Shhh, it's okay, Skips," he whispered, trying not to get tearful himself, seeing the other like this.

"I . . . You shouldn't see me like this . . ." Skips sniffled.

"Oh Skips," Benson said softly. "Don't say that. Please, don't say that. Tell me what's wrong."

"But I'm supposed to be indestructible -" Benson cut him off by placing his lips onto Skips. Benson's hands went around Skips' neck as he kissed, rubbing soothingly as he tried to calm the other down. Benson began to slip his tongue into the Skips' mouth, asking for entrance. Skips gasped before returning it gently, holding Benson close to him. Benson moaned into the kiss as strong, secure arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, and as Skips returned it the passion intensified, Benson's heart beat picking up . . . Skips pulled away slightly. "Benson . . ."

"Skips?" Benson replied, looking into Skips' eyes . . . in the dim light the wise, godlike eyes glittered mystically with intelligence, but also with tears . . .

"Are... are you sure you want to do this?"

"Whatever makes you happy, Skips. Because . . ." Benson swallowed, feeling the blush creep up his cheeks as he still stared into those gorgeous eyes. "Because I love you."

Skips blinked. "You can't mean that." He whispered.

"You are so beautiful," Benson said in a hushed voice, almost to himself, as he continued to look deep into those dilated eyes. "I am in love with you, Skips. That I am certain of."

"But-" Benson cut Skips off yet again with a kiss, this time even more passionate than the last. He grabbed onto the others shoulders and brought himself onto his lap, kissing him desperately; he had been waiting so long to do this . . . Skips groaned and kissed back hotly, wrapping his arms around the other male.

Benson moaned in pleasure as Skips kissed back, holding onto him. The kiss was long and passionate, and Benson could swear he had never felt more in love in his life . . . eventually they came up for air, panting heavily, their gazes locked. Then Benson nuzzled his nose and face against Skips' lovingly and he whispered, gently, "Please, Skips, tell me what's wrong. I want to help you."

"Nothing. It was stupid."

"Are you sure?" Benson's voice wavered a little with worry. He was knelt in front of Skips, hands on his shoulders, looking into those eyes . . .

Skips softened. "Its nothing. Just a thing of the past." He stroke the others cheek.

"Okay," Benson whispered; he smiled gently, eyes fluttering shut as he was soothed by the others touch.

"Benson..."

"Mmm?"

"I . . . I love you."

Benson gently opened his eyes. "Oh, Skips," he said, heart beating loudly . . . never before had he felt more in love. He tightened his grip on the others shoulders, admiring his infinite beauty. "I love you, and I want you to know that I've never loved anyone like this before." Benson's eyelids drooped a little and his breathing slowed . . . it was late, and he felt a little tired.

Skips chuckled. "You should head home. You're exhausted." He murmured.

"I don't wanna go home," Benson mumbled, nuzzling against Skips and holding him close.

"You need sleep, Benson."

"I'm so tired though . . ." Benson groaned into Skips' shoulder, practically collapsing against him. "I don't want to leave you . . ."

Skips chuckled and laid back down, pulling the other against him. "Alright. You can stay here."

"I love you . . ." Benson murmured sleepily into Skips' chest, eyelids gently closing, the heart beat of the other lulling him, the warmth comforting him. He stroked lazily with a finger across Skips' abdomen.

"I love you too." Skips pressed a kiss to the crown of the others head before he drifted off himself.


End file.
